Inevitably, He Started To Think Of Himself As A Brahmin

Where was he when it all came down
Where was he when the shite hit the fan
Where was he when the bill came due
Where was he when it was time to take a stand

Like little Stevie Forbert it was a hit and run
Begging for Southern kisses behind the 7-11
Turned tail and ran away after his moment in the sun
Came back 6 years later to tell us about Mexico
Played the part of a suicidal Romeo
As if we had nothing better to watch on video
Not a lot of wear on those tennis shoes
Can't scuff a soul from inside a locked bedroom

Where was he when they made the false accusations
Where was he when they called for a parade
Where was he when the door was slammed shut
Where was he when the heroes were betrayed

Maybe Nancy Cartonio got a hold of him by the short hairs
Made him listen to a strange soliloquy
Caused him to get on his knees and say his prayers
Like a lapsed Hindu becoming ascetic
Crying out in words waxing pathetic
To ears that shut down unsympathetic
Truly moved by a sight that was beautiful
While taking a path curiously devotional